


The Trick to Life

by Vagabond



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: I'm not sorry, M/M, Stripper AU, everything is stripping and nothing hurts, lap dance, will graham does his thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:36:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2082300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagabond/pseuds/Vagabond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will returns to the club to watch Frederick dance and gets a bit more than an eyeful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trick to Life

**Author's Note:**

> The madness continues. It is still LambyLimbs' fault because she drew [THIS](http://lambylimbs.tumblr.com/post/93755999833/just-a-quick-chillywilly-for-stripper-au).

Will’s not exactly sure why he ends up in the club the following weekend. At least, he’s not willing to admit the reason as he steps through the front door, nods to the club’s odd attempt at a bouncer, and makes his way over to the bar. The bartender appears to glide over to him and appraises him with frighteningly keen eyes which Will avoids making contact with. 

“Whiskey on the rocks?” 

Will is impressed the bartender remembers and nods, taking his seat on the stool as he turns his gaze to the stage. He drops cash on the bar when his drink is delivered and takes a sip, savoring the liquor. As he sips, the tension in his body eases and he watches the woman currently on the stage dancing. She’s something out of the past, Will decides, with her black and white striped leggings, appealing corset, elegant black gloves and top hat. She owns the stage even though the club is only a quarter of the way full and catches the eye of a couple of gentlemen standing rather close to the stage. 

There’s a comfortable confidence which flows from the stage and Will motions the bartender over. The man moves with terrifying precision, as if every step is carefully measured before he takes it so as not to waste energy. He has to shake his head to get rid of the thought once the bartender stands in front of him. 

“That dancer, what’s her name?” 

“Beverly Katz. Most of our dancers here don’t have stage name, so she simply goes by her nickname, Bev.” 

It surprises Will when the bartender turns out to have some sort of European accent. He almost asks about it, but decides not to get too chummy with the man. The last thing he needs are people remember his face if he ever comes across them on the street while on duty. 

“She’s good.” 

“Yes. She’s very practiced and elegant in everything she does.”

“I, ah, didn’t catch your name last time,” Will points out as he half glances at the bartender. 

“Hannibal.” 

“Do you have a stage name?” 

“Hardly. I’m afraid my talents end at tending the bar in this particular establishment.” 

He hears a note of amusement in Hannibal’s tone and considers it a victory. Maybe he’s not as terrible at human interaction as everyone tells him he is. Or maybe the whiskey is helping. He glances at his glass and realizes it is almost empty. Without asking, another one appears on the bar and Will tries to pay but his money is pushed away. 

“On the house,” Hannibal insists before moving to attend to a young couple at the other end of the bar. 

Will takes the free drink and tries not to think about it as he takes another long drink, eyes drifting back to the stage. What he finds, much to his own amusement, is Beverly and Frederick both on the stage. Beverly is leading Frederick in a rather evocative dance and Will cannot look away from the other man’s flushed face and smooth movements. While Frederick may lack a certain measure of elegance when he’s dancing on his own, with Beverly guiding his movements he becomes something different. Something entrancing. 

Before he really knows what he’s doing he’s finishing off his second drink and heading down to the plush chairs near the stage. He swallows and fishes a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket and sticks it unlit between his lips. Nerves always guide him back toward the gentle caress of nicotine and even if he doesn’t light the thing, having it in his mouth is sometimes enough. 

When he’s sure his movements have caught Frederick’s attention, evident in the way the man stops moving on the stage altogether and Beverly leans forward to whisper something into his ear, Will lowers himself into one of the chairs. He fishes a five dollar bill out of his pocket and waits until the song ends. Beverly kisses Frederick on the cheek, gropes him playfully, and then shoves him toward the stage exit. 

Will watches and tries to control his breathing, altogether uncertain what it is about this man that excites him. For a moment, Frederick disappears into the crowd and he wonders if he had been mistaken about being spotter. His fears are put to rest when the man appears to his right and approaches. From this proximity, the heat rolls off of him comfortingly and Will admires the appealing flush along his bare skin. He’s wearing a corset, complete with leggings and a garter, and comes to stand in front of Will. That’s when Will notices he’s also wearing a collar. 

“I’m glad you came back,” Frederick says so softly it almost gets lost in the noise, but Will’s looking directly at the other man’s face and he understands. He could probably understand it even without words. 

Then he glances away because it becomes too much, and shyly reaches forward to rest his hands on Frederick’s hips. There’s something oddly intimate about it as his fingertips press gently into the other man’s bare skin. It is warm, almost feverish to the touch no doubt from the dancing and stage lights and Frederick sinks forward into his lap. He’s a comfortable weight, draped over Will, his arms resting against his shoulders. 

“I’m not that great at lap dances, either,” Frederick admits, his mouth right next to Will’s ear as he rolls his hips suggestively. 

All Will experiences is a deep, burning desire for more. His fingertips dig further into Frederick’s skin as he holds on and continues looking away. It doesn’t last for long, though, because the other man’s fingers come to rest against his jaw and direct his chin so that their eyes meet. For a moment Will’s lost in the greens and blues he finds reflected in Frederick’s eyes as they dance in the flickering club lights. There’s an odd sense of confidence he gets from the other man and realizes quickly it isn’t his own confidence, but Frederick’s seeping through. 

“You’re fine,” Will murmurs as his gaze drifts down to the bulge in the tight, silky black underwear Frederick is wearing, “more than fine.” 

His mouth goes dry as he watches Frederick’s hips move. They push forward then down as he grinds his ass into Will’s groin. The cigarette drops from his lips as he becomes engrossed in what’s occurring and he makes eye contact with Frederick again. The pendulum of light swings back and forth and Will allows himself to get lost. He’s lonely and tired, yet there’s something invigorating about this man. For the first time in his entire career he wants to do well at dancing. He never gives lap dances, not if he can help it, because the thought of pressing so intimately against a stranger horrifies him and leaves him empty at the end of the night when he crawls into bed alone. 

This, though, leaves him empowered and fulfilled. 

Will opens his eyes and stares up at Frederick with a renewed appreciation as his hand lifts and he draws his fingers along the man’s collar. His fingers catch in the metal loop in the middle and he pulls Frederick down so their lips are nearly touching. The other man stiffens and stares. Will holds his gaze for a moment, time seeming to stop as he fights himself. 

When neither advances, the moment is broken and Will’s hand drops away. He breaks eye contact and glances away, aware of just how warm his cheeks are and how tight his pants had become. There’s a moment when Frederick’s lips ghost gently against his temple before he’s slipping away. When Will looks up again Frederick is gone and he’s left alone, still clutching the five dollar bill. He crumples it up and shoves it back into his pocket. 

He takes a few minutes to compose himself before standing and making a beeline for the exit. What had he been thinking, going back to the club? It is out of the ordinary and he knows it, yet he can’t shake just how comforting Frederick’s weight had been, bearing down on him. The other man’s cologne still clings to his clothing and he catches a whiff of it as he steps outside into the night and tries to dial down on the self loathing which threatens to consume him.


End file.
